Tuesday, November 14, 2017

I'm trying to remember how I met you in my dream and what we were talking about on the floor. Or where we were and who was driving the car where we were holding hands.

I don't know your name. But you look like you could be a Luke, or a James, or maybe even a Steve.

You come to me, running with tears in your eyes and your arms longing to embrace me my hands, shaking drenched in blood, touch you for the f...